Storm From The South
by touchtherain
Summary: Hazel Masterson has lived everywhere, so she didn't expect that England would be any different from places she's been before. But now that she's here, Hazel begins to see things in a new light, a light that might just change everything for her.
1. Buckets, Sunrises, and Sitting

AN: All rights go to J.K. Rowling. This is my first story and I hope you guys like it.

_**Chapter One:**_

A strong wind chilled me to the bone as I stepped out and into the early morning. Behind me, I could hear my brother fidgeting with his suitcases, just trying to find something to do. Just a a day ago, our parents let it slip that we were moving, again. I should've seen the signs. They were being nicer than usual these past few weeks, even going as far as getting us tickets to the World Cup. That's how it always did it, in the time leading up to the move, they'd try to butter us up and soften the blow. This time though, even the promise of getting to see a once in a lifetime game wasn't enough.

When I was younger, we moved around very often. It was always once place after the other. I didn't mind though, it was fun and I was able to see places that I wouldn't have been able to see otherwise. As I got older though, it grew to annoy me. With each move they allowed us to stay longer and longer in each location. Right before Michael and I started school, we had stayed in our town for nearly two years. We had both assumed that it had been our last move and started to set some roots and form bonds with friends we hadn't been able to do previously. Right before we were set to go off for school, they quickly uprooted us and took off for the next location. But with this move they finally saw how devastated Michael and I had been and promised that it was the last one. Now that school had started, they wouldn't do it again. They swore. And for three years, they kept that vow. until the today, the day before we were off to the World Cup.

I crossed my arms across my chest and waited impatiently. Could they be taking any longer?

"Mum! Dad! Could you please hurry up? It's freezing out here!"

I knew I was being brat, but hey, who could blame me? Here they were again, making us leave behind everything we'd work so hard for. And for what? Because they were bored of Andermatt? That was the other thing, they always refused to tell us why we were leaving. The times that they did answer, they'd give something frivolous like "I heard that the pastries in this new place are simply delicious" or "Can't you see us going on a hike as a family in the hills surrounding the village?" I always felt like they were leaving something out, as if there was something to hide.

When my parents finally walked out of our home - I mean, ex-home - they smiled sheepishly at myself and my brother, as if they were the children, not us.

"Hazel, Michael, we're really sorry that we have to do this," my mother said as she wrapped an arm around each of us, "but just imagine going back to the place you were born! Don't you two remember that you were born in Bath? Well, of course you don't, but you know what I mean! You'll finally be able explore your homeland, go to school with kids just like you!"

"We _do_ go to school with kids like us." Michael said. They were the first words out of his mouth since yesterday morning when Mum and Dad made the announcement.

Mum looked to him and frowned, but as quickly as she frowned, she smiled once again, "Oh honey, please don't make a big deal out of this. you two should be used to it by now! It's not like it's your first move. You know what? You know that broom you've wanted for a while, your father and I will get it. It was going to be your Christmas present but we'll get you something else. Isn't that right, Richard?"

Dad, who had been quiet this whole time, walked towards us and smiled. "Yes, Katherine. And Hazel," he looked straight into my eyes, "whatever you want, I'll get it for you. There's no price too high."

I glared at him and grunted. I refuse to be bought. "Now where is this portkey? You said that it leaves at dawn and I'm pretty sure the sun'll be out soon."

"Oh, right," Dad looked down at his watch, "It leaves in fifteen minutes. It's in the pasture about an acre away. Look for an old milking bucket."

I set off, muttering "_Locomotor_" with a flick of my wand to get my trunk to follow me. I walked briskly and determinedly. I used my height to my advantage as I used long strides to create a larger distance between myself and my parents. About a minute into the walk I felt my brother fall in stride with me and nudge me with his shoulder.

"You know, you don't have to be so harsh with them." He said as he looked at the horizon. The sky was turning a delicate pink, the color mixing beautifully with the lush green grasses of Switzerland. I knew I would miss watching the sunrise in such a place, so I looked forward with him, trying to etch the scenery to my memory.

"Says the person who has ignored them for nearly a day." I retorted.

"Yeah, but really, what did we expect? That we were going to live the rest of our lives here? You know Mum and Dad, the moment a place gets too comfortable, they can't take it anymore."

"But aren't you sick of it? I guess it was sort of fine when we were younger. But we've started school and made friends! They lead us to believe that we'd stay here until at least our graduation."

"I am, but what can we do? Until we're 17, they're in control of us."

"That's three whole years, and for all we know, three different schools. I love Mum and Dad, but I don't think I could take that."

Michael shrugged and looked back at our parents. I did the same and saw them deep in conversation with with foreheads all wrinkled. I turned to look ahead again and saw the bucket.

"Found it." I said as I went to retrieve the bucket. It was rusty and looked near to rotting. I took it to where my family stood and placed it in the middle of us.

"Now, Hazel, Michael, I think you remember how to use a portkey. One finger should be enough. Make sure that you have a hold on all your luggage. It won't be easy to get back here if we leave something behind." Dad instructed.

I had half a mind to do just that. I ended up deciding against it. It wasn't going to change anything, I'd just be without half my wardrobe for a few hours.

"Should be about time. Everyone, get ready."

We all grabbed our belongings and put a finger on the bucket.

"3...2..."

I felt a tug on my navel as the green and pink swirled around me and soon disappeared. The next thing I knew I felt like I was being dropped out of the sky. I'd never really been good with portkeys and braced myself for the impact of my body hitting the ground.

"Oomf!"

I furrowed my brows, wondering where the sound came from. It wasn't from me. I looked over at my brother who had landed on his butt and my parents who stood a few feet away with horrified looks in their eyes.

"What?!" I asked, annoyed at their faces.

"H-H-Hazel, stand up immediately." My mother stammered.

"Why should I?" I asked indignantly.

"Because you're sitting on my chest." A voice said from below me.


	2. Farting and Wand Stealing

**_Chapter Two_**

I looked down and for the first time realized why my landing had been so soft. I had landed on a person.

I scrambled off of him, nearly injuring myself in the process.

"I'm so sorry, I never meant to fall on you. I can't believe I didn't realize - I'm so sorry." I knelt beside the boy and fervently tried to remove whatever dirt I'd left off his body.

The boy laughed, his bespectacled green eyes twinkling with amusement.

"It's fine," he chuckled, sitting up, "no harm, no foul. If you only hadn't farted on me, I'd be in the clear."

I heard laughter and looked up to see a family, all with brilliant red hair, snickering. They also seemed to have a frizzy, brown haired companion, who like me, wasn't tickled in the slightest. A quick peek at my own unit revealed that my brother was laughing with them.

I whipped my head back at the boy and scowled at him, my pale green eyes boring into his bright ones. "I did no such thing!"

Annoyed, I proceeded to shove him back a few inches or so and shot up onto my feet.

"There's no need to be ashamed," he continued, standing up and pushing back some of his dark hair, "it's all natural."

I huffed and walked back to my family, arms across my chest.

"I think you're forgetting this," he remarked as I turned around and saw my wand dangling between his fingertips.

"You nicked my wand from me?"

"I did no such thing." He mocked, albeit good-naturedly.

"At least what I did was an accident. You on the other hand -"

"What's all this commotion about?" A man with hair just as red as his children's and two haggard looking men made their way through the sea of red to where the boy stood.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, we were all waiting for you to come back when a new family arrived. One of them accidentally fell on Harry." The brunette interjected while speaking in a matter of fact manner. "And now it seems that Harry took her wand as some sort of retaliation."

The man to whom she referred to as "Mr. Weasley" turned his attention to where I stood.

"I don't believe it, Katherine? Rich? Is that you?"

"Arthur?" My mother asked incredulously. recognition dawning on her face.

"It's been years!" Mr. Weasley came forward and pulled her into an embrace.

"Too many." Mum conceded.

"Rich!" Mr. Weasley said enthusiastically, moving from my mum to my dad.

"How have you been all these years?" Dad asked as he and Mr. Wesley thumped each other on the back. "I see you've been busy." Dad continued, gesturing to the Weasley clan.

The tips of Mr. Weasley's ears turned a prominent shade of pink. "They're not all mine. All the red ones are , but the other two are my youngest son's friends, Harry and Hermione. Mind, I do have three more at home. They'll be apparating in later."

Just as my mum was about to say something, the two men that Mr. Weasley had been walking with piped up.

"You're the Mastersons, yes?" A man with a long piece of parchment asked,

"Yes, that's right." Dad replied.

"You lot weren't supposed to be here foranother hour!"

"We didn't make the portkey, we were just given a time."

"Alistaire probably wrote it wrong," he frowned. "Damn it, now who knows who else might arrive at the wrong time!"

The man next to him who was holding a pocket watch bustled forward and took the bucket and threw it into a large bin of other used portkeys.

The man with the parchment spoke again, "Well, doesn't matter now. Masterson...Masterson, okay, you lot will be in in the same field as Arthur. Just follow him, I've already shown him where to go. You better get a move on. We've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at 5:15 and we wouldn't want a repeat of what just happened."

Mr. Weasley clasped his hands together and smiled at everyone. "Thanks, Basil. Alright everyone, onward!"

He started forward and my parents walked beside him, catching up on old times. The rest of us followed behind trudging through the misty moor. As we went on. I noticed two more people I hadn't registered before, obviously non Weasleys since they lacked the red hair, walking along with us. It appeared to be a father-son duo. The younger of the two towered over his father and walked with sort of a humble confidence. He suddenly laughed at something two twin Weasley boys said and it caused a burst of energy to ripple through the group. Conversations were started up amongst us and I caught up to my brother.

"Thanks Mike." I said when I got to his side.

"For what?" He asked, a smile on his face,

"Exactly." I stated before letting myself fall back.

Of all people, my twin brother had sided with the complete stranger. Okay, I know he wasn't "siding" with anyone...and if I had been in the same situation I would've laughed too but...wait, where was I going with this?

Having lost my train of thought, I looked around and found my new target.

"Hey jerk," I said to 'Harry' when I reached him, "don't think that I forgot you still have my wand."

He turned slightly to look at me and smirked, "I think I should keep it. It can be your sorry gift for squishing me."

"Give it back."

"No, I don't think I will."

"Harry, or what ever your name is, I'm not kidding. Give me back my wand."

At this, his face softened. All the playfulness that been there just seconds before disappeared. His demeanor instantly changed and he held out my wand. "Hey, right, yeah, sorry. Here's your wand."

I looked at him suspiciously, wondering what brought about this new attitude. I hesitantly reached out for my wand, expecting it to blow up as soon as I touched it or for him to cast a spell, but it neither exploded nor threw a spell on me.

"Thanks, I guess."

"Yeah, no problem."

We ended up walking together in silence for the rest of the way to the field where the father and son who'd been accompanying us said their goodbyes and continued on to their own campsite. After the adults paid Mr. Roberts, the owner of the field, we continued to walk together and did so until we reached our respective spots. It was only then did we even dare as to look at each other.

We both looked at each other waiting for the other to speak when we both started speaking at the same time. Laughing, I was the first to say, "You first."

"No, you. I insist."

"Um, I guess, thanks for walking with me."

"Same here."

"Though, I still think you're a thieving jerk."

"It's not my fault you're unobservant." He smirked again.

"I am plenty observant, I just didn't think someone who looked like you would do such a thing."

His smirk turned into a full blown grin. "And what do I look like?"

I realized I had backed myself into a corner. "Like a - like a"

"Hazel! I need your help over here!" My mum called.

"Oops, got to go. Mummy's calling." I said, thankful for once that my Mum was incompetent with tools.

"You know, you'll have to tell me sooner or later!" Harry said as I backed away towards where I thought I heard my mum's voice.

"The later the better!" I responded, turning away so that he couldn't say anymore.

* * *

I'd been able to avoid him all through the walk to the game and throughout the match. We were all seated in the Top Box, so how I managed that feat surprised me. From where I sat, I could see him easily. I watched how he interacted with the Weasleys, a bunch that I learned were some of the nicest, funniest people. How he handled an interaction with a family of white blondes who seemed to rub him the wrong way. Every once in a while, we'd catch each others eye, and when that happened, I would stare him down until he looked away. Childish, I know.

The game itself was enthralling. I was at the edge of myself for nearly all of it and was just as surprised as everyone else when Fred and George's prediction came true. It was hilarious watching them go up to Ludo Bagman and ask for their gold.

It was on the way out of the stadium when Harry was finally able to catch me off guard.

"You can't keep running forever, Hazel." He whispered into my ear.

I mentally cursed myself for one, letting him find out my name after I introduced myself to Hermione, and two, for thinking that I could hide in the crowd without him finding me.

"Who said anything about running? I for one simply abhor the task, much more of a broom lass myself. I'm pretty good, too. Not as great as Krum by any means, but better than you think considering -"

"If you'd just tell me what you were able to say earlier, I'll promise to leave you alone."

I arched an eyebrow, something I'd practiced for nearly a year when I was younger, at his statement.

"I swear!" He asserted, "Chaser's promise."

"Fine," I said, "I was gonna say that you look like a...a...a Keeper. Yeah, that's right a Keeper! You know Keepers, they're usually the nicest, most trustworthy guys on the team. Why would a Keeper steal my wand? Yes, that's the answer I'm going with."

"I don't believe you." He stated.

"It doesn't matter whether you believe me or not. You swore you'd leave me alone when I told you."

"I did swear, didn't I?" He mused, tapping his finger on his chin. "Chaser's promise, too."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Too bad that I'm a Seeker, not a Chaser."

"You conniving little shit."

"Hazel," My father boomed.

I stopped and turned back at Dad. I'd been so concentrated on my and Harry's conversation that I hadn't seen that we were back at the campsite, away from the crowd, in a quiet enough place that my father could hear me curse.

"Sorry Dad." I muttered.

I reached down and picked up a stick, throwing it at Harry. "Look what you did now! You got me in trouble with my parents."

"Careful, you sure that wasn't your wand?" He teased, pulling the twig from his hair.

As he pulled the twig out of his hair, a portion of the front of that was stuck to it to lifted up and revealed an oddly shaped scar on his forehead.

"Hey, where did you get that?" I asked, leaning forward to get a better look. "I feel like I've seen like that before."

Harry quickly replaced his hair, covering up the scar. "Nowhere."

"No, really Harry, how'd you get that?"

"You're telling me you really don't know?"

"No." I replied, completely sincere.

"I'm Harry Potter."

"Harry Pott - oh." How could I have been so dense? I guess I was as unobservant as he said I was.

"Alright."

"What, aren't you going to ask for my autograph now? Fawn over my scar? Ask me if it hurts?"

"Why would my finding out that you _the_ Harry Potter change how I talk to you?"

"Haven't you heard of me?"

"Of course I have, but you're still the same guy I met earlier today." I answered. "Still a jerk who stole a wand from an unsuspecting, very innocent girl and likes to lie about what position he plays in Quidditch."

Harry grinned, "Yeah, I guess I am."

* * *

It was hard to sleep that night, what with all the noise outside. Everyone was celebrating, no one louder than the Irish camp, so we call convened in the Weasley tent and had our own party. I'd been having so much fun with Harry, Ron, my brother, and Hermione, that I didn't even know that I was so exhausted. I didn't even realize that I'd fallen asleep until all of a sudden I was being woken my Mr. Weasley.

"Kids, kids wake up!"

"What is it Dad?" Fred, or was that George, asked.

"No time, Fred - everyone just grab a jacket and get outside - quickly!"

Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I finally noticed that the noise emanating from the outside had changed. Gone was the music and cheering, now the night was filled with screams and alcohol soaked laughter.

"Michael, Hazel. Get a move on!" Mum shouted, throwing us our coats.

I did as I was told and hurried out of the tent only to be confronted with complete and utter chaos.

**AN: Thank you to all who have Favorited and Followed. I really do appreciate it.**


	3. Horror

**_Chapter Three_**

I froze in horror, unable to believe what I was seeing. Flocks of people were taking to the woods, many with their infant children held tightly against their chests. They all seemed to be fleeing from a dark mass that was moving slowly across the field. From the mass I discerned the laughter I had heard before as well as yelling and grotesque profanity. Some appeared to have their wands out, pointing at the sky. I followed the direction of their wands and saw that the man we had paid earlier and others that I could only guess were his family being levitated nearly 60 feet off the ground and being manipulated into distorted shapes. It was so vile that I could feel myself getting sick.

"That's sick." Ron muttered from behind me. "That's really sick..."

Hermione and Ginny came hurrying toward us, pulling coats on. Right behind them were Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and my parents. Each had their wands out.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his sleeves. "You lot - get into the woods, and _stick together_. We'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

Mum rushed over and pecked myself and my brother on our cheeks. "Be safe," she instructed, "_be safe_."

"We will Mum." We said in unison.

We watched as they sprinted to the oncoming mass. Ministry wizards were dashing from every which way to join them.

"C'mon." said Fred as he grabbed Ginny's hand and tore into the woods.

The rest of us followed his lead, only looking back when we had reached the trees.

The Ministry wizards trying to get to the mass, but they were having trouble. It also looked as though they were scared to perform any sort of spell that might make the family fall.

We started to run again but it was hard. People were coming from every direction and shoving past each other, while others stood in place, fixated on the commotion beyond the woods.

"Shit!" I heard Ron yell.

"What happened?" Hermione asked anxiously, stopping so abruptly that I ran into her. "Ron, where are you? Oh this is stupid - _Lumos_!"

She took her illuminated wand and directed its beam across the path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground.

"Tripped over a bloody tree root," he said angrily, getting to his feet again.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," said a haughty voice from behind Ron.

I turned to the voice. It was one of the white blond people that I had seen earlier in the Top Box. He was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. He seemed to have been standing there for a while.

"Get lost, Malfoy." Harry said through gritted teeth.

"I'd watch my words if I were you, Potter." said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering even in the dark. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?" He nodded at Hermione.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione demanded defiantly.

"Granger, they're after Muggles," he drawled. "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around...they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled.

"Have it your own way, Potter. If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

"You take that back!" I shouted, appalled he would say such a thing.

"And who are you?" Malfoy smirked, clearly only having noticed me now.

I opened my mouth to speak but Hermione stopped me.

"Never mind, Hazel," said Hermione quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Malfoy.

A bang erupted from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything we had heard. Several people nearby screamed. Malfoy just chuckled softly.

"Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to - trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where're your parents?" Harry said, a vein emerging on his neck. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling.

"Well. . . if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"

"Let's go. We've lost the others." Michael grabbed my hand.

We made it back to path before Ron spoke again.

"I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!"

"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" was all Hermione could say. "Oh I can't believe this. Where have the others got to?"

"I think th-"

_Bang!_

About ten feet away from where I stood, the tree burst apart, chips of wood flying everywhere. I dropped myself to the ground and covered my head. Time seemed to pass different as I lay on the ground. I couldn't tell how long I'd been on my stomach. My ears were still ringing from the blast, and a throbbing had begun to pound at my skull. Beneath me I could feel the vibrations of feet scrambling.

"Michael?" I croaked, opening my eyes.

I was met with an eerie silence. Gone were the screams and the even the sound of the commotion from outside the woods.

"Hermione? Ron?"

With a push, I sat up and tried to get a good look around me. It was so dark and that I could barely see the shape of my hand before me as I checked for any scratches or bruises.

"Ugh, damn this, _Lumos Maxima._"

The light initially hurt my unadjusted eyes but by the time I had stood up, I easily surveyed the area around me. I had lost the rest of the group. They'd probably assumed that I was right behind them and ran after the blast but I'd been left behind.

"_Petrificus Totalus_." whispered a voice behind me.

I felt my body lock into place, all things paralyzed but my eyes. I tried as hard as I could to see where the spell had come from to no avail. My eyes darted from left to right but I couldn't see the person.

"And who may you be?" the voice was throaty and hoarse, as if worn after years of screaming.

I thought of all the things I could say but knew that I wouldn't even be to vocalize.

"Just how I like them, quiet." The man said.

Two hands found themselves at my waist, so cold that I could feel it through my clothes. Chills ran through my body, my mind racing. I prayed that someone would happen across us, that another blast would knock this man unconscious or maybe even kill him. The hands moved southward and played at the top of my jeans. He rubbed circles on my hip bones, a soft moan escaping his lips. The skin where he touched burned and stung, more my body's reaction than any spell he may of conjured. I could hear him taking in the scent of my hair and him nuzzling his face into it.

"Don't worry lassie, it'll be over faster than you think."

His hands were just about to reach into my pants when he retreated and said, "Fuck."

I heard him leave but I was still frozen in place, the spell not having worn off yet. The light from my wand was about to fade out when the footsteps came back. Tears welled up in my eyes and I wished he just put me out my misery.

"Hazel?" A sob escaped my throat as my lips slowly parted.

"Just kill me instead." I managed to say, unsure of how he found out my name.

"What?"

"Kill me." I repeated, feeling coming back to my arms and legs but not enough to move them.

"What to do mean?" Just then, the person speaking showed their face to me.

It was the boy from earlier, the one that had traveled with the Weasleys. I realised then that the voices were different, he wasn't the man from earlier. He looked at me with confusion and worry in his eyes.

"How did this happen to you?" He asked, his hands finding my shoulders.

"I don't know, some man petrified me and..." I didn't want to say anymore, I didn't even really know him.

"Did he hurt you?"

"Not really." It was a half truth.

"Can you move now?"

I tried to move a finger and found it able to wiggle. I tried my arm and when it moved, I quickly grabbed my wand again making sure I had a firm grasp.

"Where's the rest of your group?"

"I lost them after that tree," I pointed to my left to a singeing trunk, "was blasted apart."

"Let's go find them."

"I wonder why he left in such a hurry." I said to myself in a tone barely above a whisper as we walked.

"It's probably because of that." the boy said pointing to a green skull and snake in the sky.

* * *

"Hazel!" Michael shouted when I came into view.

He sprinted towards me and pulled me into a hug. He and Harry, Ron, and Hermione had found the others as well as our parents. Mum and Dad were right behind him and hugged me too. Mum's face was wet, she had probably been crying.

"Don't do that again." She commanded.

I said nothing, letting them hug me. When they let go, I looked back to the boy who was now being hugged by his father.

"Cedric, you all righ'?" his father asked.

"Yeah Dad, I'm fine."

"What happened, why weren't you with the others?" My father asked when I looked back at my family.

I faced Cedric who was looking straight at me. I pleaded to him with my eyes to not say a word.

"Well, a tree got blasted and I laid on the ground and I guess they thought I was right behind them. But it's okay, I got back didn't I?"

"Did Cedric here find you?" Cedric's father questioned.

"Yeah, and we decided that we'd find you guys together. Two's better than one, right?"

Everyone looked to Cedric to corroborate my story and he smiled easily, "Yeah. Yeah, that's right. We found each other and here we are now."

* * *

The hours following the night of the World Cup were exhausting. We'd all gone back to our tents to sleep for at least a few hours but I didn't sleep wink. At six, we were 'woken' up and our things packed quickly with magic.

We made it to the place where we'd landed the day before only to be greeted by a crowd of people all clamoring to leave. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil and we joined the queue. Cedric, his father, and the Weasley party were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill, where they'd left from, while we and two other families grabbed a broken hand vacuum to a back room of the Three Broomsticks.


	4. Ruffling Feathers

AN: Thank you so much for continuing to Favorite and Follow the story. It really warms my heart, like, seriously. Also, thank you for the reviews. I really appreciate them. Sorry if the story seems to be going slow right now, I promise it'll get interesting soon enough. On with the story!

_**Chapter Four**_

I had been to Diagon Alley before, nearly three years ago to the day. My parents had received their wands from Ollivanders, as had their parents, and their parents' parents, and so and and so forth. They believed that it was only tradition that Michael and I were to get our wands at his shop too. The trip had lasted no longer than two hours, and right after getting our wands and having a quick lunch, we went back to Switzerland.

So in the week leading up to school, I allowed myself to reacquaint with the alley. I wandered in and out of each store, taking my time to let it all in. I kept an ear open for all the accents, making sure that I would be very familiar with each. My days would start out by grabbing a cone from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and heading to the shop that most attracted me. When I'd enter a shop that I needed school supplies from, I'd buy the necessities and had them sent to my room. Inside Flourish and Blotts, I met some of what I assumed were going to be my future classmates. Twin Indian girls with matching plaits bought the same books as I had and later one of them started screaming when they came across a dirty blonde haired girl around our age. Their incessant screams made me roll my eyes, something that the store owner had noticed and politely offered me a sympathetic grin. They didn't even notice as I slipped past them and through the store's door.

My mind wandered after that and I let my feet take over. It wasn't until I was already inside Eeylops Owl Emporium that I realised where I was. Hooting, mewing, croaking, as well as other sounds created a cacophony of noise as I carefully examined each animal. I had never bothered getting an owl when I started school, I thought that the school's owls would suffice, and they had. When I was in my first year, I had planned on updating my parents every month or so of my progress but with each letter it took longer and longer to get a reply back and sometimes I wouldn't even get an answer.

"Anything catch your eye, sweetling?" asked the older woman behind the counter.

"Oh, I'm just looking."

"You look like you could do with an owl. They make for very unobtrusive and understanding pets." She moved from behind the counter and stood next to me. "Which catches your fancy?"

Looking up, I made eye contact with a Burrowing Owl with brown, honey, and cream colored feathers. It swooped down and landed on my shoulder, nipping my ear.

"Ah, looks like this one's taken a liking to you. Only arrived yesterday. D'you want him?"

I lifted my arm and he hopped onto my wrist. I gave him a good once over and smiled. He hooted in response.

"I guess I'll take him," was my answer as I took a handful of galleons out of my purse.

"I could do with a friend." I said to Hermes as we walked back to my room.

* * *

"I'm coming with you!" Mother insisted as she followed me out of her's and Dad's room.

"No, I can handle myself. It's just school robes!"

"Can't a mother want to spend time with her daughter?"

"No." I sped down the stairs and to the bar area of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Oh, Hazel, you don't mean that." said Mum, right on my heel. Damn, I shouldn't underestimate her speed.

"Mum, please, I want to get this over with, I haven't even packed yet. I have lots to do."

"Hazel, just let me have this and I promise I won't pester you again today."

I crossed my arms and stared into her eyes. "Alright, you can come, but I swear if you fawn over how much I've grown or something of that sort, I _will_ leave and start a new life in Egypt."

Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was much more informal than any other wizarding clothes shop I'd been to. Madam Malkin herself didn't have that frown that most wizard tailors seemed to have permanently glued to her face, but rather a gentle smile. She and my mum had apparently gone to school together and spent the whole time I was being measured chatting about their years at Hogwarts. It was weird in these past few days to see my parents in a place where they knew everyone and vice versa. They seemed more at home than anywhere we'd lived before. Their demeanours, normally tense, were relaxed and at peace. I hoped it was their bodies telling them that this is where they belonged.

"You're of a tall sort, aren'tcha dearie?" Madam Malkin said as the last of the measurements were taken.

"I guess," I said awkwardly, now painfully aware of how tall I was compared to girls my age. At 14, I was 5'9", towering over my mother, but still shorter than my brother and father.

"Gets it from Rich's side, Godric knows that my family is nothing short of average height."

"Now, what color do you want your robes to be?" Madam Malkin asked, waving a wand to charm the worktable in the corner of the room. Sheets of black fabric begun to fly from every which way and convened at the table.

My forehead creased with confusion at her question. "The regular color?"

"No, for your _dress robes_, for the -"

"Uh uh, Margie, she doesn't know yet."

"Don't know what?" I interjected.

Both women looked at me, then turned to each other.

"Ah, then what color do you think it should be?" Madam Malkin asked Mum.

Mum thought for a moment and then whispered something into her ear.

"Oh yes, that would look very pretty."

"What are you two talking about?" I inquired, fetching my purse from a plush chair next to the vanity.

"Nothing honey," Mum replied.

"What in the world would I do with dress robes? Mum, answer me!"

Because Katherine Masterson continued to ignore her only child - well, the only good one - I took to storming out of the store like the teenager I was and stomped all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"If I were only of age..." I muttered, sitting down at a dusty table in the corner of the dining room.

"If you were only of age, what?" asked my brother, sitting in the chair opposite me.

"If I were only of age, I'd get a shot of Firewhisky right now."

"Now what's leading our leading our little Hazel to the bottle?" Michael leaned back in his chair, amused by my anger.

"Mum."

"Mum, I should've guessed. What happened now?"

"We were getting my robes -"

"Should've done that on your own, like I did on Friday."

"I _tried_ but Mum kept insisting to tag along and you know how insufferable she can get."

"Alright, so?"

"_So_, she was fine up until Madam Malkin asked me what color I wanted for my dress robes. I didn't get what she was asking at first, I thought she was referring to my school robes, so I said 'regular colors' and Madam Malkin was about to say what the dress robes were for before Mum stopped her."

"Yeah, what are the dress robes for? I got a set but I forgot to ask why I needed them."

"Like I said," I swatted his arm, "I was trying to find out but they just ignored me so I ran out."

"And now you want Firewhisky. Alright, I'm caught up." He leaned forward. "Look, Hazel, just one more day and we'll be at school. You won't have to be around Mum anymore. You think you can handle that. I really don't want to leave tomorrow with everyone mad."

"I'm not mad, just annoyed. You know I love Mum and Dad, but I'm still irritated about the move and having to start all over again. I just wish we weren't always on our toes, wondering how long before it it's time to go."

Michael sighed and nodded, "Let's go finish packing."

* * *

The next morning I awoke earlier than the rest of my family. At 6 in the morning, I trudged out of bed and to the window. The sun was just about to rise over the horizon and I was taken back to the day of the World Cup. It all seemed like just yesterday. My body gave an involuntary shudder as my mind went to later that night. I closed my eyes and took in a shaky breath. I hadn't told anyone, not even Michael, but I felt like he knew something had happened, he just didn't know what. I stayed at the window until I started to hear stirring in the room next to mine. I was pulling out a black sweater and a pair of Muggle jeans when I heard a soft knocking on my door.

"Come in," I called, putting on socks.

"Oh you're awake," Michael was still in his pyjamas. He hopped onto my bed and glanced at my clothes. "Didn't think you'd be up early."

"I just woke up," I lied.

"Mum and Dad are still asleep. I knocked there first."

"That's all really interesting information, now get out. I have to get dressed." I pulled him off my bed and pushed him towards the door.

"Rude." He said as I slammed the door in his face.

I smiled to myself, happy that I could always count on my brother to make me grin. Yanking off my top , I went to grab my sweater when I heard a tapping on my window. I screeched, expecting to see a man's face in the window. Much to my relief, it was just Hermes returning from his hunt. I quickly put on my sweater and scampered over to open the window and his cage.

"Hermes, you scared me. Next time if you see that I'm dressing, wait until I'm done." I gave him a treat. "Understand?"

He nibbled on my finger and hopped into his cage. I changed my bottoms and went to check that all my things were order. I checked and double checked that I had all my books and even the robes that my mum left on my door the night before when she finally returned. Dad told me at dinner that there was a village near Hogwarts that we were allowed to visit so I also put in a few outfits for those trips.

"Hazel?" Someone called through my door. Looking at the clock, it read half past eight.

I opened my door and was met with the visage of my father.

"Yes, Dad?" I asked, running a hand through my hair.

"Oh good, you're ready. Breakfast is at nine and after that we'll be heading for the train. You all set?"

I looked back at my trunks and nodded at him. "Packed."

Dad smiled down at me and pulled me into a hug. "Oh Hazel, you're all grown."

He kissed the top of my head. I let him do so but as soon as he let go I whined, "Daaad."

He chuckled and hugged me again, then turned. "Nine!" He called over his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes and shut the door but smiled all the same. Dad always had a way of making me forgive him without me even knowing.

I put my wand - which had been on the nightstand - into a pocket in my jeans and walked to Hermes. "Here's hoping that this'll be the last move."

He hooted and ruffled his feathers.

Half an hour later I dashed down the flight of stairs to see my family already sitting at a table, plates filled with food. I sat next to Michael and I scooped up some sausage and eggs and focused on eating them, decidedly ignoring the conversation that they were already having. I picked up a few words here and there, which were all weird out of context. "Wart on his bottom", "giant squid", and "Uranus" were just a few of the things I caught.

We finished and with a wave of her wand, Mum made all of our things appear at the bottom of the stairs.

"We'll be off now. Michael, can you hurry out and hail us a cab?"

Michael, ever the diligent and obedient son, nodded and walked out the street door of the Three Broomsticks.

"Hazel, honey," Mum called. I turned to her. "Can you help me and Dad with the trunks?"

"Sure," I said.

We all grabbed what we could with Tom the Barkeep taking the rest and made it to Michael who was waiting with a taxi. Tom put the things into the trunk and I went to sit.

"King's Cross." Dad ordered, when we were all in.

"King's Cross." The man repeated and set out onto the road.

It wasn't a long before we were at the train station. I exited the cab first and retrieved some trolleys. We loaded them and made the quiet trip to wherever we supposed to go.

"We're here!" Mum smiled at us, stopping in the middle of the terminal.

Michael looked around and rose a single eyebrow. "That's a barrier, Mum." He said slowly.

"Very observant, Michael, you'd make a great Ravenclaw." She laughed, "Rich, wasn't your Uncle Grégoire a Ravenclaw?"

"He was," Dad, went behind me and grabbed the trolley. "Now kids, the trick is to run into that barrier if you're a bit nervous, otherwise, just push through."

I looked at him, wondering what in the world he was talking about, when he started to run forward, pushing the trolley we were both holding forward.

"Da-ad!" I cried but before the last part came out, we were on a crowded platform with many families rushing around and boarding a scarlet train with the words 'Hogwarts Express' written on it in beautiful calligraphy. There were children being kissed goodbye and friends being reunited all around me.

"Huh, never expected this." Michael said, having just pushed through with Mum holding him much in the same way Dad was holding me.

They let go of us and smiled ferociously, linking hands. As they stood together, it felt like another one of those moments where it just reconfirmed in my heart that they truly belonged here.

"Let's get out of the way." Mum led us near an entrance to the train.

"Take the trunk that has your school robes onto the train," she instructed, "the other ones will be taken care of. And yes, Hermes will be treated well Hazel."

I had been ready to open my mouth but my mum beat me to it.

"You two be good." Dad, kissed each of us on the head.

Mum started crying, Michael and I rushed to her but she just looked up at us and shook her head.

"It's nothing." she sniffled, wiping a tear on Dad's shirt. "It's nothing, I swear."

Michael and I looked at each other, wondering what do but Mum kissed us and started pushing us onto the train. "Go, go. You'll be late. Don't want the train leaving without you."

"You've got your money, wands?" Dad asked, rubbing Mum's arm.

"Yes." We answered in unison.

"Then shoo! Your Mum and I will be fine."

Michael and I climbed onto the train and found the nearest empty compartment. We waved out the window and they walked near us and waved back.

"Love you!" Mum and Dad shouted.

"Love you!" Michael and I replied.

The train gave a grumble and the wheels started to turn. We continued to wave out the window as they sped away from our parents. We only stopped when the train rounded a corner they disappeared from view.

I sat down and sighed. So many feelings were going through my body. Excitement, confusion, loneliness, anxiety. It was hard to keep everything straight.

"...Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," said a familiar red-head, opening the compartment door. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what-"

He stopped when we saw us. Harry and Hermione, who were right behind him, stopped too, trying to peer over his shoulders to see why he had stopped.

"Ron! Harry! Hermione!" My brother greeted, getting to his feet.

I did the same, and hugged them each. The hug with Harry lasted a little longer than the others.

"You're going to Hogwarts?" Ron asked, sitting down next to Hermione who had taken a seat next to Michael.

"Well obviously, Ronald, why else would they be on the train?" She exclaimed, swatting him on the arm.

Harry smirked down at me. "Just couldn't stay away, could you?"

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window, watching the greenery speed past me. It was actually quite beautiful and reminded me a little of the Swiss countryside. I was so enraptured by the view that I hadn't noticed our cabin grow quiet. They all seemed to be listening to the cabin next to ours where a familiar voice was speaking.

"...Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do..."

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Harry.

"Yes," Hermione sighed, "and it's got a horrible reputation. According to _An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe_, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"I think I've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"Well, nobody knows, do they?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.

"Er - why not?" said Harry.

"Rivalry," I interposed, "there's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets, not that I think that any wizarding school would really have any huge secrets. Like, what secret would you have that's worth so much that you have to hide your location?"

"Come off it," said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts - how are you going to hide a great big castle?"

"How did they hide the World Cup?" Michael said. "It'd be the same type of thing. Spells that ward off Muggles, except schools tend to make themselves Unplottable too -"

"Come again?"

"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?" Hermione quipped.

"Er...if you say so," said Harry.

"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident...Shame his mother likes him..."

Hermione turned her attention to me, "Where did you two go to school? Durmstrang?"

"No," I replied, pulling one of my legs to my chest. "We went to the Swiss Academy of United Witches and Wizards. We tend not to be included in the rivalries seeing as we're very neutral about everything. We're even taught in English so that not one language/denomination is preferred over another. Most of the students spoke a second language of either Italian, French, Romansh, or German, though."

"I was wondering why you both spoke English so well." Ron mused.

"It might also have to do with the fact that both our parents are English, Ron."

His ears turned pink just like his father's had the morning of the World Cup. Outside the sky had turned gray and rain was beating down on the windows. It only grew darker as the trip continued, so dark that lanterns were lit early in the afternoon. I went back into the recesses of my mind, as the day passed, barely saying anything more. The next time I spoke was when Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for all of us to share from the lunch trolley.

"Thanks." I said, taking one.

"You're welcome." He said, keeping my gaze longer than necessary.

Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom. They each looked at Michael and I with disbelief, as if they'd never seen humans before.

"You're new students?" Seamus, the Irish one, asked.

Dean who seemed much more calm about the situation just asked what year we'd be in.

"Fourth." Michael answered.

Neville, however, seemed too shy to ask such questions when he came by. He did introduce himself though, and stayed for the rest of the journey. The talk went towards the World Cup as the boys relived it for Neville, he hadn't been able to go. His grandmother refused to go.

"We saw him right up close, as well," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box-"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood buffoonish boys, one tall, the other short and pudgy. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry coolly.

"Weasley...what is that?" said Malfoy, pointing at Ron's open trunk. He had pulled out a miniature Krum to show to Neville. It just so happened that a sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious.

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" said Malfoy gleefully, holding up Ron's robes and showing his friends, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety!"

"Eat shit, Malfoy!" said Ron, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter, the friends did the same.

"So...going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know...you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won..."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated slowly. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," Hermione spat, her hand subconsciously reaching towards her wand.

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face "Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago...heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry...Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley...yes...they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him..."

Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to his cronies and the three of them disappeared.

Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, and she pulled out her wand, muttered "_Reparo_!" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well...making it look like he knows everything and we don't..." Ron snarled.

"'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry'...Dad could've got a promotion any time...he just likes it where he is..."

"Of course he does," said Hermione quietly. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron -"

"Him! Get to me?! As if!" said Ron, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

"Look, we don't know either." I said in an attempt to comfort him.

"Me neither!" Neville squeaked.

He just shrugged and sat back down. Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. He didn't talk much as we changed school robes. I noticed that they all had scarlet and gold ties that they fixed at their collars. Michael and I didn't have any.

"Where did you guys get your ties? We didn't get any from Madam Malkin." I looked at them for an answer.

Ron looked down at his tie and said, "You get it when you're sorted."

"Sorted?"

"In to a house."

"House?"

"Oh, you don't know."

"Know what?"

Hermione straightened her tie. "At Hogwarts, we have four houses. There's Slytherin, where Malfoy and his lot are, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff-"

"...and Gryffindors, like us." Ron smiled for the first time in an hour and puffed out his chest.

"Yeah," I said, "Switzerland's all about 'all for one, one for all' type thing. We didn't have houses at our school. That'd start rivalries."

The Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of what Hermione told me was Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up, and we all did the same. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over our heads.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, talking to a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

"First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid." Hermione explained from behind me. "Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather!"

We inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for us outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them with Michael and I following suit, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track towards a castle.

Leaning against the window, I could see Hogwarts coming nearer. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had been in the carriages in front of us were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. We jumped down from the carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when we were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, a beautiful marble staircase yards away.

"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak - ARRGH!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of water over his sneakers into his socks. People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. I looked up and saw floating twenty feet above us a thing that appeared to be a ghost, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

A stern looking teacher appeared, dashing out of two large doors. She skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.

"Ouch - sorry, Miss Granger-"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked the professor, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several girls who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of students who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" she shouted. "I'm warning you, Peeves-"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Well, move along, then!" she said sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

"Not you two." She smiled down at us. "I expect you're Richard and Katherine's children. Hazel and Michael Masterson?"

We nodded, afraid to speak.

"Right, you'll wait here with me for the First Years. We'll sort you all together."

Michael and I stood with her as the rest of the constituents of Hogwarts entered the room through the two large doors. Everyone was dripping wet but at least didn't have Peeves throwing water balloons at them. Finally, after what felt like an hour, people stopped entering and in the the distance I could see a flock of boat docking at the edge of a lake and all the students in them heading towards the castle. The large man from earlier led the pack, he used one of his large arms to cover a row of First Years.

"Here yer go, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid said, filing the children inside.

"Thank you, Hagrid. Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts." She gave a distinct look at myself and my brother. "You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

She left and immediately the First Years broke into hurried whispers. One particularly wet First Year was the most fervent in his speech.

"Why are they so tall?" I heard one small voice ask.

I smirked at Michael, who did the same in return.

"This is what happens when you fall into the Lake." I said, frowning.

"We both fell into the Lake earlier," Michael agreed, "and about fifteen minutes later we started growing. Professor McGonagall told us that we won't stop growing until we fill a room and only then will the swelling go down!"

"Oh my God, I think my arms growing, Michael! Ouch! My nose!" I covered my face.

All the kids looked back at the very wet boy in horror. He looked at us, eyes as wide as saucers.

Professor McGonagall returned. "Now, form a line, and follow me."

Michael and I waited to be in the back of the line before falling into a fit of silent laughter. We stopped when we entered the Great Hall and were transfixed at our surroundings. The Hall was lit with more than a thousand candles and the ceiling looked just like the outside. Up ahead, Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before us and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. Everyone started at it. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song. When it finished, it was met with a round of applause.

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment. "When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told us. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

"Huh, I wonder how it does that." Michael muttered.

"Magic." I giggled.

"Clever." He said.

As others were being sorted, I looked around to see where Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Harry sat. I found them at a table where everyone else worse the same tie as them. Further inspection showed me that all the other Weasley children were at the same table. Harry caught my eye and waved. I smiled back. I continued to look and fell across a familiar mop of hair. Just at that moment, the head turned and raised his eyebrow at me. I shrugged and he laughed. His friends looked at him and followed his gaze to me. They looked at me with confused looks.

"Mallory, Patricia!"

"We'll be up soon." Michael whispered.

A knot formed in my stomach and a I felt my breath quicken a pace. I didn't know I was even this nervous.

"Masterson, Hazel!" Professor McGonagall called.

I walked through the group of First Years yet to be sorted. Around me, I heard a slight buzz of whispering start. Probably wondering what I was doing being sorted at this age. Finally, I made it to the stool and smoothed my skirt before sitting down. I placed the Sorting Hat gently onto my head and waited.

"_You aren't a First Year._" A small voice in my ear spoke.

"Well spotted." I thought.

* * *

AN: Alright, I'll end here. I know this was a _long_ chapter but I needed to get a lot of the formalities out of way so that I could start getting into the story. I hope you guys liked it. Milkshakes for all of you who did. Hugs and butterfly kisses!


	5. Learning Together

_**Chapter Five**_

"_Feisty, aren't you? Hm, so where to put you? Your parents were in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor respectively. Maybe one of those Houses would suit you._"

"I really don't have a preference. Could you please hurry, it's getting a bit awkward. Everyone's staring."

"_Impatient, not very Hufflepuff of you._"

"So I guess not Hufflepuff."

"_You're keen, but there's this fire inside of you. Very daring. Not afraid to stand up._"

"I'm about to stand up if-"

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat roared.

The table of red broke out into applause louder than the rest of the Hall. I looked to Michael who seemed bemused, and walked over to the Gryffindor table. I sat next to Hermione just as the applause died down and Michael was called up.

The hat was on his head for just half a minute before it shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

The table of blue and bronze clapped hard, especially the girls. Overall, the Ravenclaws seemed excited that they had gotten one of the new kids. Our eyes met again and I tried to telepathically send him my congratulations.

I took the time while the last of the First Years to really look at where I was. The table before us were decorated with empty golden plates and goblets. They gleamed in the candle light, causing a golden shimmer that dances across the walls. I looked to the front, behind the Sorting Hat, and came across a table of professors. They were of varying heights with Hagrid definitely being the largest. Most were watching the Sorting intently, a few others looked elsewhere, bored. Finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ('HUFFLEPUFF!'), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.

"About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

A tall man who sat in the middle of the teacher's table stood, his silver hair and beard swaying slightly. He looked at his pupils through his half-moon spectacles and broke out into a smile, his arms opened wide in welcome. It took me a moment, but I recognized him to be Albus Dumbledore. I had at least five of his Chocolate Frog cards.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told us, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before our eyes.

Before I started eating, I watched everyone in the Hall as they heaped food onto their plates. This was where I was going to spend the next four years of my life if it all worked out in my favour. They were the people that I was to live amongst day and night for all but two months out of the year. They were also the same people I was supposed to bond with and start friendships that would last a lifetime. I wanted to join in so badly, just let myself go and _be_ one of them. But-

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said a ghost in a doublet with a large ruff. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" Harry asked through a sizable chunk of steak.

"Peeves, of course," said the ghost, shaking his head, which wobbled. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance - but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly. "So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual," he said, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits-"

_Clang_.

Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen with a dull orange, but Hermione paid no attention.

"There are house-elves here?" she said, horror-struck. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," the ghost replied, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they? They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning, see to the fires and so on...I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

Hermione stared at him. "But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

The ghost chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck. I turned away and grimaced, only looking back at him when my face had relaxed.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops - sorry, 'Arry-" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."

She refused to hear anymore. Soon after the ghost drifted away, I started piling food onto my own plate, hungry. Hermione looked at me as I ladled a little bit of the things I recognised but said nothing. When we had all finished, our plates were cleared and dessert was served. Puddings, cakes, and other treats lined the table but Hermione continued to refuse food even though Ron was trying his hardest to tempt her.

When the puddings too had been consumed, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain outside could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered-"

"Hmph!" said Hermione, crossing her arms.

"-I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. I would also like for all of us to welcome our two new Fourth Year students who will be attending Hogwarts from henceforth. Hazel, Michael, will you please stand?"

There was another round of applause that was quieter than the Sorting ceremony. It was more polite than anything. I tried to smile but it felt more like a scowl. I heard a loud chuckle and found Cedric laughing once again. Michael and I sat down as the applause finished and the focus went back to Professor Dumbledore.

"On a sad note, it is my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped. He looked to the Weasley twins. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak.

Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the man, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table. A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

It was a face that could only be described as one of nightmares. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a marble, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

No one applauded but Hagrid and Dumbledore. The rest of the Hall remained quiet.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long swig from it.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred (George?) Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, myself included, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued disregarding the chatter, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This-" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious "-is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion."

His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Everyone stood up from their seats and waited for their turn to get out of the Hall. I searched the crowd for my brother and found him about twenty people away. I pushed past some students and was able to get to him. I hugged him from behind and said, "Congratulations."

He turned and hugged me back, "Same to you. I guess I'm the first Ravenclaw since Uncle Grégoire."

"Hat tell you that?" We stepped a few feet forward.

"Yeah, did he tell you anything?"

"He said that Mum and Dad were in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor."

We'd reached the threshold of the hall and looked at each other. A group of his fellow Ravenclaws waited for him at the door. "I guess this is where we part." He said.

"I guess. Well, here's hoping we have classes together."

We hugged one more time and he went off while I scanned the remainder of the people in the Hall for Harry, Ron, Hermione.

"Looking for me?" A voice to my left asked.

I already knew who had spoken before I was able to fully face him.

"No." I said, looking straight into Cedric's gray eyes. "I'm looking for some Gryffindors. Have to find my dorm, you know."

I peered at the crowd and found Hermione's bushy hair.

"I could show you." Cedric suggested, putting his hands in his pockets and smirking.

"Yeah, I'd trust _you_ to show me where my dorms are. From the looks of it," I glanced at his tie, "you're in Hufflepuff. What would you know about the Gryffindor dorms?"

"I was thinking we could learn together," he laughed, his eyes twinkling.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, "Look, I see Hermione, gotta go!"

I waved and sped away towards Hermione. I didn't dare looking back at him. When I fell into stride with Hermione, I allowed one little peek at Cedric. He was still watching me and his face broke into a smile when he realized I had looked at him.

"Where did you go?" Ron asked, trying to button the top of his school trousers.

"Said good night to my brother." I answered, it was mostly the truth.

"I'm really happy you're in Gryffindor," Harry stated.

"Why's that?" I posed.

"I dunno," he shrugged and looked down at his feet.

Fred and George bounded towards us, debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.

"Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George..."

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice as we walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore?

Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older. Dunno if we've learned enough..."

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George.

"I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to - oops..."

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. My eyes widened at the sight but Hermione assured me in my ear that Hogwarts had a load of these tricks and that I'd just have to remember where they all were. Harry and Ron seized Neville under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

"Shut it, you," said Ron, banging down its visor as they passed. They made their way up to an entrance that Hermione explained was Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached.

"Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which we all climbed.

* * *

AN: Thanks again to everyone who's been reading. The story should start picking up soon and I'm really excited to write it out. Reviews are appreciated, I want this story to be as good as it can be. See you guys soon!

- Update: Sorry, I had to reupload this because it was acting all wonky on my end.


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